


it will be your strength

by RadderbeRad (MiaMoonWolf)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Flashbacks, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Miscommunication, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Alternating, Shirabu has a really bad mouth, Slow Build, Unreliable Narrator, Ushijima being Ushijima (if you know what I mean), cameos by other characters, there is an idiot couple, uncomfortable euphemisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-03-21 14:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13742688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaMoonWolf/pseuds/RadderbeRad
Summary: Shirabu stares at his phone, thumb hovering over the ‘send’ button.Ushijima is finishing school overseas, he’s coming back to Japan permanently.I heard from Tendou that you were planning to come backHe hits send and he waits. It might be the middle of the night there, or Ushijima might not have his number saved or-I’ll be returning on the 22nd after our graduation ceremonyShirabu stares at his phone screen.Fuck. Four years of telling himself he’s over him, four years of not caring, all gone with one conversation with Tendou.A story of getting together painted across several years.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is self-contained and linear. The time-stamp for each chapter is made clear in the first paragraph and the rest of the chapter is sequential from that point on. Flashbacks in italics.  
> Thank you all so much for reading!

_6/27/18 7:14_

**NinTendou:** miracle boy returns

 **Go Go Shiki:** wut u mean. im already here

 **Yamagata Hayato:** when will he be back

 **Semi Setter:** drinks ?

 **NinTendou:** yes yes

 **NinTendou:** he’ll be back in a week

 **Reon Roars:** We should make a reservation at the izakaya near Tendou’s.

 **NinTendou:** ill make it

 **Go Go Shiki:** finally a chance to show him what I can do

 **Reon Roars:** It’s just dinner.

 **Semi Setter:** and drinks*

 **Yamagata Hayato:** saturday?

 **Go Go Shiki:** wut abt shirabu

 **Semi Setter:** who knows

 **Yamagata Hayato:** he’s probably still at school

_6/27/18 7:29_

**NinTendou:** shirabuuuuu

 **NinTendou:** shirabu shirabu shirabu kenjirou

 **NinTendou:** kenjiiiiii

 **Mr. Hothead:** at internship

 **NinTendou:** izakaya for Ushijima’s great return

 **NinTendou:** yes?

 **NinTendou:** ~(-◎y◎)

 **Mr. Hothead:** yes lmk when

_We would like to invite passengers in Group 3 to board flight 521 from LAX with service to Narita International Airport._

Ushijima has his passport ready as he gets in line. He’s visited Japan a handful of times since starting college, but it’s good to know that this time it would be a one-way trip.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi?”

“Yes.”

“Welcome.”

The flight is long. Ushijima is prepared though: water bottle full, laptop with downloaded matches of his new team, and a quite interesting mystery novel that Tendou sent him.

_They call it a care package Wakatoshi-kun. It’s very very important to have people send you things from home. And then you can send me things from America and I can tell people that you gave them to me once you’re rich and famous._

_Is that so?_

_Yes yes yes._

He arrives at rush hour but sends his luggage on ahead. Being on the shinkansen again is pleasant in it’s own right. Although he’d found good Japanese food in LA, accessibility was a problem. Now however, his bento from the kiosk sits warm in his stomach. Leaning against the window he finds himself drifting in and out of wakefulness, the sun is setting and by the time he gets home it’ll be pitch black.

Ushijima pulls out his phone, keying in his mother’s number.

“Wakatoshi?”

“Mother.”

“Your flight was ok?”

“Yes, I’m on the shinkansen now. I will arrive at 8:12 pm.”

“Oh, Junpei and I will come get you. We’re so glad you’re home.”

\--

It’s been a year since his last visit, and the drive is as dark and quiet as ever. His mother’s husband, Mizoguchi-san, is behind the wheel while his mother interrogates him about everything he’s done in the last year. She seems to enjoy it, so Ushijima answers as thoroughly as possible, even though he is rather tired.

“When do you start with your new team?” Mizoguchi-san interjects.

“I’ll start next week.”

“Well you can get some rest in before then,” his mother says fondly.

That, sounds like a really good plan, he thinks as they pull up the drive.

\--

Shirabu glances at the clock _5:46._ He’s one of the last ones in the engineering lab. It’s not that he needs to stay late; after all he can work on things anytime he chooses. Compulsively he opens his phone to reread the message that Tendou sent at lunch for the umpteenth time.

 **NinTendou:** 7:00 tonight

What are the chances that he’ll get chastised if he says he can’t go and works on his senior project instead? Shirabu sighs and looks at his laptop. If he doesn’t go he could make some headway. But he has this extremely uncomfortable feeling in his toes, like a toe premonition, that if he skips Semi will-

 **Semi Setter:** you better not be thinking of ditching

Shirabu can feel his soul leaving through the vents.

 **Semi Setter:** Ushijima’s your former captain

Fuck. Shirabu pulls up his backpack and grabs his phone, he’ll just continue tomorrow.

 **Mr. Hothead:** ill be there

He has the whole train ride home to brood, then the speediest shower and a quick toweling off to feel annoyed. He’s thankful at times like this, when he’s rushing, that he cut his hair shorter. He no longer has to blow dry it or risk getting sick. Then he’s back on the train and forcing himself to focus. He’s doing this for his senpai, that’s all.

The izakaya is just getting lively when he gets there. Shiratorizawa’s at a table in the back, and fortunately he’s arrived before Ushijima.

“Shirabu,” Yamagata says scooting over so that he can squeeze in. Shirabu gives him a small smile before sliding down. They’re at one of those lower tables. Thankfully there’s a space that dips below the floor where their legs can hang. The cushion he’s sitting on is also fairly comfortable and he finds himself staring at the cabbage already out on the table for them. Reon and Semi are sitting across the table.

“Where’re the others?” he asks.

“Taichi can’t make it,” Reon says.

“His job is going well then?” Shirabu asks. Taichi works for some big corporation in Akita, which is probably why Shirabu’s seen him the least out of everyone since high school, other than Ushijima.

“Yeah it’s going well.”

It’s not long before Goshiki joins them. Not noticing Goshiki is impossible. As soon as he enters any room his presence is known, Shirabu knows that strut better than anyone.

“Shirabu,” Goshiki says excitedly as he, maybe on accident, knees Shirabu while attempting to sit on the cushion next to his. Before Shirabu has a chance to smack him Tendou and Ushijima are coming over. Ushijima’s grown even taller it seems, however unlikely. And he’s broader than he was in high school too. Shirabu considers whether it’s due to some strange American diet that he was on. But he’s wearing what looks like the softest sweater in a deep purple. Shirabu isn’t partial to any color really, but he might retract that view.

“Look who I brought,” Tendou says happily as he gestures for Ushijima to sit down next to Semi before Tendou folds under the table as well. “So where are the drinks?”

Seven beers are promptly ordered and then they’re sharing a rolling series of sashimi, noodles done in the Chinese style, and crispy fish. As more and more food is dumped on the table Shirabu hastens to help shift things around. And he finds himself relaxing by his second drink.

“Remember when Kazuo left?” Yamagata says with a wry smile.

“Kazuo?” Goshiki says.

“The vice captain when we were freshmen,” Semi says rolling his eyes.

“What were your seniors like?” Goshiki asks. He’s like an over excitable rabbit Shirabu thinks, craving praise and attention and jumping on anything the seniors throw at him.

There’s a look that the seniors share: dark and steely.

“He had the worst personality,” Semi answers.

“It was split,” Reon adds. “Coach loved him, but then as soon as he turned around Kazuo was pulling pranks.”

“That sounds like fun,” Goshiki says.

“He never got caught and we always took the fall,” Yamagata adds quietly. “I just wanted to play volleyball.”

There’s a beat of silence before the seniors start cracking up and relating all the things Kazuo had done. _Literal ants in the locker? – fire ants – damn – I couldn’t take a dump for a week after that protein powder – I’d take that over the laxative tea – oh hell no._

“Ushijima-san, what was it like, living in America?” Shirabu asks.

Everyone’s quieting down and looking at their former captain.

“It was…”

They wait, as if on tenterhooks.

“warm,” he finishes.

Another silent moment before the laughter starts. This is familiar, this is what Shirabu has forgotten about. The way they gel, the comfortableness and ease with which they converse.

“Wakatoshi-kun was in LA so that makes sense,” Tendou says seriously.

“How many miracles did you make?” Goshiki demands.

“That’s _senpai_ from you,” Semi growls.

“Senpai,” Goshiki corrects, “how many amazing points.”

Shirabu is sure that that doesn’t merit a response.

“Well how many did you make?” Tendou says saving Ushijima.

“I made 74 miracles happen last year.”

“You count your miracles?” Shirabu says quietly.

To his utter consternation Goshiki is standing up, beer sloshing slightly, fire in his eyes and spreading his arms as if he’s about to demonstrate his moves. There’s a worker nearby eyeing them in mild annoyance and Shirabu and Tendou quickly push him back into his seat. As the conversation rolls to Goshiki’s college team Shirabu finds himself noticing the way Ushijima’s sweater stretches over his shoulders. It’s not too tight, but it’s fitted. Who bought it for him? Someone with a sense of style, someone who knows what will make Ushijima look even better than he already does. This is problematic for Shirabu who thought that he couldn’t get anymore attracted to his old captain. Fuck he was wrong, so wrong. He feels someone watching him and turns his gaze slightly before locking eyes with Semi. He quickly looks down and grabs his chopsticks.

“So what were the girls like?” Reon asks.

Shirabu tightens his hold on his chopsticks.

“You had an American girlfriend?” Goshiki asks altogether too invested. “That’s not fair.”

“I didn’t.”

Goshiki starts laughing and Shirabu smacks him on the head, finally he thinks.

“Don’t laugh at your captain,” Semi rages.

“So no one huh?” Yamagata asks.

“Well there was someone,” Ushijima starts.

Shirabu literally stops breathing.

“But they have a boyfriend. And they are here in Japan.”

If Ushijima is disturbed by the complete lack of commentary he doesn’t show it.

“Ah but we’re friends now, so it’s good.”

As usual Tendou is the one who rallies first.

“You just talked so much about romance. But how sad. Friends is a good ending though. But Wakatoshi-kun you’ve never talked so much about these things before. You must’ve changed quite a bit living so far away.”

“I was told that I should be more open.”

The simplicity at least hasn’t changed, but still… shit. Ushijima’s fine the way he is. He doesn't _need_ to be more open. And who the fuck is this girl? By the time Shirabu has gotten his breathing under control they’ve moved on to other topics.

\--

Shirabu is trying very hard to be quiet as he repeatedly mutters the F-word and jams the key into the lock on his front door. If he doesn’t get inside soon he’s sure that he’ll just be sick all on the entryway. Seeing as he still lives at home this would be inadvisable. Finally he gets in, and manages not to make a mess. His heavy feet lead him upstairs and then-

“Holy fuck.” He throws his arm up to block the now blinding light.

“It’s two in the morning.”

That sass could only come from Kaoru.

“I think oniisan’s drunk,” Yazu says quietly.

“I’m fine,” Shirabu lies. He shoulders past the twins and goes straight to the bathroom.

As he’s puking up half his dinner he laments the fact that now, in addition to feeling like shit both physically and emotionally he’s annoyed because those fuckers have somehow surpassed his height. Having to look up into Kaoru’s stingy face every time his younger brother challenges him is punishment enough for still living at home. But as soon as he graduates he’s moving out and going far far the fuck away.

\--

“Niisan wake up!”

Shirabu rolls over, he doesn't know what time it is but he knows that Kaoru is trying to ruin his life. Sighing in quiet rage Shirabu takes a few minutes to listen to Kaoru stomp down the stairs. Seriously, it’s like he took all of the shitty personality traits and Yazu got all the kindness.

He’s thankful that he makes it to the bathroom before seeing either of his parents. His mouth tastes of vom and he’s not sure he could face his mother knowing that he’d gotten roaring drunk last night and ogled his old team captain. He needs to get to his coursework, and finish up some of his work for his internship. If he does well it’s possible that he will be offered a permanent position at their parent firm in Tokyo. It would be different, but he could really use different. And it would be good if he could avoid Ushijima for the duration of his stay in Miyagi.

He does in fact, avoid him. It’s not that hard really. They never hung out before, and Ushijima is probably busy with his family. Shirabu wonders idly what they’re like. Does he have siblings? What about his parents? Stop it, he tells himself firmly. The less he knows the better it is. But that doesn’t stop him hearing things from the others. Apparently Goshiki challenged him straight away and got his ass kicked. That would’ve been worth seeing. But he also knows that Ushijima’s staying less than a week, that he’s heading off to training right now and that he’s about to have a new setter. Again.

Ugh, Shirabu’s so petty. And it’s at this point that he realizes he’s gotten nothing done.

“Shit.”

\--

When Ushijima steps into the gym of his new team it’s as if he’s finally come home. His real home. True, Tokyo is nothing like Miyagi, but the gyms are the same. Gyms in America are colored differently, each one like a cereal box: different looks but the same shape of packaging. But in Japan there is a more consistent uniformity to things, and the familiarity grounds Ushijima as he meets first with the coaches and then introduces himself to the team. He’s doing drills, feeling his body perform exceptionally well when the coach announces that they’re going to set up for practice matches. As he goes to his assigned group he notices one of the other guys staring at him. His head tilts from side to side and his eyes are impossibly wide and blinking brightly.

“Hey hey hey!”

Ushijima watches as this gentleman comes over, hair reaching high almost like Tendou’s, but more puffy.

“You’re from Miyagi right?”

“Yes, I played for Shiratorizawa.”

The man’s jaw drops. “I’m Bokuto Koutarou. Do you know Karasuno?”

Ushijima clenches one of his hands, but Bokuto doesn’t seem to notice.

“Yes.”

And that’s when Bokuto slaps his back while smiling hard. “Pretty interesting group huh? Tsukki’s here in Tokyo now you know?”

Ushijima doesn’t know how to respond, especially because he has no idea who this Tsukki is. But it’s just as well because their coach is putting them into starting formation.

There are a few times when Ushijima finds himself yelling in English. It’s just a simple ‘yes’ or ‘one touch’ but it’s still odd that he doesn’t slip back in to Japanese right away. His teammates don’t seem to mind, many of them have been abroad for some period of time as well. Perhaps this confusion is typical.

Post shower he finds Bokuto standing by his locker whistling off-key.

“Want to grab dinner?”

“Sure.” He can work on his apartment later.

Ushijima follows Bokuto to a small homey place.

“Keiji is meeting us if that’s ok.”

“Who?”

“Ah my roommate, Akaashi Keiji- oh there he is. Keiji!”

It is possible that this Bokuto would do well in America he thinks as Bokuto stands up to wave enthusiastically at a much more reserved man.

“Bokuto,” Akaashi says in greeting before turning to Ushijima. “You must be Bokuto’s new teammate. Ushijima-san?”

He’s polite and there’s a certain grace in the way that he sits down. Ushijima finds that most of the people that he spends time with are rather chatty, but he himself is more quiet, Akaashi seems similar.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says.

“Likewise,” says Akaashi.

“How was class?” Bokuto says as he passes out menus.

“It was fine.”

“You’re in school?”

“Yes, Bokuto and I went to high school together,” Akaashi says as Bokuto smiles smugly – Ushijima isn’t sure why. “I’m studying to be an athletic trainer.”

“You played volleyball together?” Ushijima guesses.

“I was captain, Keiji was vice captain and then…”

Ushijima listens as Bokuto explains about Fukurodani, how in Bokuto’s second year of college they moved in together, and how he was scouted for his current team. Ushijima is aware of the pink in Akaashi’s cheeks, which is strange considering he hasn’t had that much to drink. This just proves what Ushijima thought all along: alcohol is not worthy of his attention. Although he did have one beer with his kouhai when he got back. Well but there needed to be exceptions to every rule.

“Are you living nearby?” Akaashi asks politely.

“Ah I just got an apartment in Kameido. Where is Fukurodani?”

Ushijima finds the evening passes pleasantly. He knows that this is how you make friends. Tendou is his friend, and maybe he has a few others from college. It’s hard to tell, or rather what makes someone a friend verses an acquaintance? Ushijima considers these things as he parts with Bokuto and Akaashi to take the train back to Kameido.


	2. Chapter 2

Ushijima’s legs feel heavy from the 100-serve penalty they did after losing to Karasuno. Carefully, he unlocks the front gate and traverses the small stone path leading to their front entrance. His grandmother and mother must already be asleep. Quietly, he goes into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. This coldness of the liquid makes him realize how incredibly tired he is and with it the magnitude of their loss snakes through him. They lost. _Not_ to Oikawa. _He_ lost, before even going to nationals. Putting the glass down, he notices in mild confusion that his hands seem to be shaking; he needs a bath.

How long he sits in the bathtub, how long he stares up at the moon through the small window, how long he wonders if his teammates are also looking at the night sky. How do they sleep at night, knowing that in the morning they wake up defeated?  
The water is changing from burning to lukewarm and he knows it’s time to get out. On his futon he thinks that perhaps sleep will evade him for once. But what with his exhausted body he’s out quickly.

At 6:07 he finds himself awake again. It’s Sunday and they won’t have practice until Monday. Silently he gets out of bed and changes. It still looks like it’s night outside, but he stretches down, reaching for his toes, one, two three…. He rolls up slowly taking in the strain he feels and twisting his arms behind him to open his chest towards the ceiling, one, two three…. It’s nice to have a rhythm and to feel his body loosening. Perhaps his mind will relax too, maybe he’ll stop feeling so void after their loss. He’s considering whether or not he should go for a run when a file on his desk catches his eye. Peering down at it he sees the international stamps, the wear that must’ve come from it being sent from overseas. He grabs the envelope, carefully slicing it open.

 

_We would like to congratulate you on your acceptance…._

He reads through it quickly.

_You have been chosen to receive the Aurora Volleyball Scholarship…._

 

He got in. He got a full ride. He reads it through a second time taking note of the important deadlines before carefully slipping the letter back in. His bottom drawer is almost too full of other letters for it to fit. Already he’s been accepted to three schools abroad, two with scholarships and now this one with full tuition. For now he’ll leave them where they are. He’s applied in Japan as well. Well there have been scouts, he has many options here. But he wants to meet new people, surely the best way to do that, would be to live abroad for a time and then return with a more diverse skillset. It would be valuable as a player in the top league, and that’s where Ushijima is headed.

Lost in thought, he makes his way downstairs where his mother is already making breakfast.

“It will be done soon,” she says as he sits down at the table and grabs a magazine. He feels her hand ruffle his hair lightly and he knows that she’s thinking of the match the night before.

“Take your time,” he says easily.

“I already told your grandmother.”

Ushijima nods and she places a tray in front of him, before sitting down across the table with her own food.

“Thank you,” he says as he takes his chopsticks and begins to eat his rice.

“Wakatoshi there’s something we should talk about.”

He puts his chopsticks down, looking up expectantly, but his mother isn’t looking at him.

“Grandmother is getting very old. You’ve done very well in volleyball and I think she understands how important this is to you. That being said I’m not sure it’s a good idea to go abroad just now.”

And now she’s looking at him. She must’ve seen when she brought the mail in. Maybe she’s been waiting for a time to address the issue with him, a time when his grandmother was out of the house or still asleep.

“There might not be other opportunities.” Ushijima wants to play for the national team after all. It would be prudent to go in college.

His mother sighs, “sometimes you are so like him,” she says and her mouth turns down in a frown before she continues to eat, no longer looking at him.

Ushijima blinks at her. There isn’t anything to say to that. Although he is certain that he is like her too.

Ushijima bows as Mizoguchi-san enters.

“Junpei good morning, I have your breakfast ready.”

“Excellent. Wakatoshi-kun.”

“Good morning Mizoguchi-san.”

“How was the match?”

“We lost.”

Mizoguchi eyes him over the paper as his mother puts Mizoguchi’s breakfast down.

“We will win next time,” he says simply. Mizoguchi gives him a stern but approving nod.

“Your advisor called yesterday morning. We need to discuss your options soon,” Mizoguchi says.

“Whenever is convenient for you,” Ushijima answers.

Mizoguchi closes his newspaper. “Well?”

Ushijima looks to his mother.

“It would be best if Wakatoshi stays in Japan, after all mother is not as young as she used to be.”

Mizoguchi-san waves her off. “He can’t choose mediocrity if there’s an opportunity for him to become stronger abroad.”

Ushijima’s mother falls silent.

“Wakatoshi-kun would you want to go overseas?”

Ushijima nods.

“It’s settled then. Tell your mother that this is what is expected for someone of Wakatoshi’s skill level,” Mizoguchi says to his wife.

“May I be excused?”

“Yes,” his stepfather says.

Ushijima feels that strange sort of feeling that he always feels after his family makes a decision concerning him.

\--

“America?” Tendou says excitedly.

“Yeah.”

“Is that where your dad is? Is that why you’re going?”

“He’s in New York, my school is in LA.”

“Oh, so you won’t get to see him.”

Ushijima pulls his boxers on before dropping his towel. Tendou is busy drying his hair, fluffing it up with a towel before spraying some asthmatics on it. Ushijima is reminded of the nakedtroll doll his father got him as a gift one time.

“He called to tell me that I can go visit before school starts.”

There’s an intake of breath behind them and Tendou spins around lazily, accidentally getting Goshiki in the face with the wretched spray. Goshiki coughs loudly, doubling over.

“Oh whoops, sorry ace,” Tendou says easily before staring at Shirabu who’s bright red and clenching his shirt in his fists. Well Ushijima understands, Tendou should be more mindful of where he’s spraying that thing.

“What is it Kenjirou?” Tendou says.

“No- nothing,” Shirabu says as he slams his locker shut. “When’re you leaving?”

“The term starts in September, we’ll have summer training for August. But I’ll leave right after school finishes in March. It will be a good chance for me to practice my English. And my father is preparing a training team for me so I can keep practicing.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk so much,” Tendou says happily.

“Really?” It must be true. Interesting.

Shirabu shoulders his bag and stomps out of the locker room.

“Why is he angry?” Ushijima says.

“Who knows?” Tendou says smirking at him. It’s times like these that Ushijima is sure Tendou knows things that he doesn’t, but he isn’t sure how. “Eat their hearts, make them cry,” Tendou starts singing.

“Are you kidding!”

Ushijima startles as he sees Goshiki quaking with rage, pointing at Tendou.

“I said I was sorry,” he says as he breezes by.

Ushijima finishes changing and grabs his things. He waves at a yelling Goshiki and walks out to the bus stop.

\--

“You always did look good in purple,” his mother sighs as she pulls a sweater off the rack and holds it up to him. “It’ll remind you of Shiratorizawa, when you’re overseas.” He catches her wobbly smile before she’s turning away. “Junpei and I have decided that you should spend the summer beforehand with your father in New York, then you can go to LA.” Ushijima follows her as she wends her way through the store. He opens his mouth to respond but she has more to say. “Your grandmother doesn’t need to be bothered with this. We’ll tell her that you have to go early for training.”

They’re not going to tell grandmother? “That’s dishonest,” he finally settles on and his mother freezes. She turns to him and he’s startled that her eyes are slightly wet. “Do you need more exercise shorts?”

“Oh, yes.”

“We want what’s best for you and,” she walks purposefully towards the register, “your father was right, you have a gift for volleyball and he is your father.”

“Mizoguchi-san is ok with this?”

“Junpei understands,” she says. “Only if you want to go early.”

“I do,” he says quickly. She pats his shoulder.

After they pay, they make their way over to his favorite athletics store. Several shorts and a new pair of shoes later they’re in the car.

“Thank you mother.”

“I love you Wakatoshi.”

“I love you too.”

That night he knocks on the study door. Mizoguchi-san is always busy, he works very hard, a quality that Ushijima respects in him.

“Come in.”

Ushijima opens the door and carefully steps in, bowing low. “Thank you for allowing me to go early.” When he straightens up Mizoguchi is gesturing for him to sit down.

“You’ve accomplished a great deal, and your mother and I agree that this is the best opportunity for you to advance in your career. It makes sense to go and acclimate as soon as possible.”

“Thank you,” Ushijima says. He then stands up, bows at the door, and exits.

\--

“What’s up with Shirabu?” Kawanishi says as they catch their breath.

“Maybe his head is so far up his ass that he’s not seeing straight,” Semi says.

“I don’t think it works like that,” Kawanishi answers.

Yamagata watches on in quiet concern until Kawanishi taps his arm. “It’ll be fine.”

For the better part of an hour Shirabu’s technique has been getting more and more erratic until he finally slammed the ball so hard into Tendou’s back that the coach had to put practice on pause.

“Shirabu,” their coach growls.

Everyone falls silent as Shirabu walks over.

Coach Washijou is speaking too quietly for them to hear – never a good sign.

Shirabu has his head bowed and is answering Washijou; the conversation culminates in Washijou’s yell reverberating around them.

“What?” the coach says loudly, his voice echoing.

“Shit,” Semi mutters.

“I’m sorry coach,” Shirabu says audibly, bowing again.

And that’s when Washijou’s hand slaps across Shirabu’s face. The second and third years have all felt that sting. Well not Ushijima. But the first years haven’t all had the pleasure yet. They’re bouncing back and forth nervously, worried that they’ll be caught staring, but too scared to do otherwise.

“Take a run.”

Shirabu starts doing laps around the gym.

“Group up to work on blocks,” Washijou says to the rest of the team.

“Ever since inter-high he’s been playing worse and worse,” Tendou whispers to Ushijima.

Ushijima hadn’t noticed, but Tendou is usually right about these things.

“Goshiki is really doing well though,” Tendou muses. “He’s gone from weekly challenges to daily requests for praise and acknowledgement. Just like a puppy. He’s ready for your position to be vacated,” Tendou continues, stretching slightly and looking immensely satisfied. Possibly due to his guessing abilities.

“It’s not like Shirabu to play badly,” Ushijima says. It’s unsettling to say the least.

By the end of practice the left side of Shirabu’s face is bright red.

Once the whole team has gone to the locker room Washijou interrogates him some more, and it hurts to talk through his steadily fattening cheek. But he is eventually released to the locker room.

“How’s the baby?” Tendou sings naked as the day he was born and already having showered.

Shirabu flips him the bird before marching off to the shower, Tendou’s cackles finally being drowned out by the water. One good thing about running for the rest of practice is that he was able to get out of his head. He keeps repeating the game with Karasuno over and over again. If he’d just done it differently at the end then maybe they would’ve- God if only he could shut off his brain for one damned second. He slams his palm into the shower wall. Fuck.

Turning the water off he hears the silence of his surroundings. He’s too tired for this shit these days. Lost in a haze he almost doesn’t see the lone figure sitting on the bench.

“What?” he says aggressively.

Semi just shrugs and stands up.

Shirabu isn’t naïve enough to think that Semi waited around just to check in and have a nice chat. And he definitely didn’t wait to walk the whole way home in silence. But Shirabu isn’t going to help him out. It isn’t until they’re a block away from where they part ways that Semi speaks up.

“What’s been going on?”

Shirabu stops walking. “Seriously?”

They glare at each other and then Semi scoffs as he turns away. “Fine. Are you going to tell Ushijima?”

All the air is knocked out of Shirabu. Semi can’t know. There’s no way. Shirabu is careful to not stare in the locker room, to not say…. Wait no Semi _couldn’t, possibly_ know. Shirabu gives his best vacant expression. “I have no idea,” he says with suppressed rage, “what you’re trying to say. But no I’m not telling anyone anything.”

Semi considers him before nodding and continuing to walk. They say their goodbyes and Shirabu walks towards the lit row where his house sits.

“Hey Shirabu?”

He half turns to see Semi with his back to him.

“You know that Ushijima wouldn’t understand right?”

Shirabu tenses. Of course he knows.

“I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

And then he’s leaving and Shirabu hurries home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s just heading out when his phone starts ringing.  
> He doesn't recognize the number and picks up regardless.  
> “Ushijima speaking.”  
> “Ushiwaka-chan.” He can hear music in the background, the chatter of voices, strange tinny laughter. “Are you there?”  
> He hesitates, this is a very strange call because, “Oikawa?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no Shirabu in this chapter - I swear I'm going towards romance with this, we just need to handle Ushijima first.  
> I hope you enjoy ✧٩(•́⌄•́๑)

“Wakatoshi!” his dad greets at the airport. He has a big sign that says his name. It’s not necessary, but his father seems happy, so Wakatoshi doesn’t say anything.

“Father.”

“Let me grab one of your bags.”

Ushijima passes off his smaller roller. The sky is already dark outside, and the huge signs in English, Spanish and Chinese make him realize how very far he’s come.

“How was your flight?”

“It was fine,” he says. “It would’ve been nice to be able to move.” The truth is his legs were too long for the seat. He wasn’t used to flying, only having been on a plane once before.

His father is smiling at him. “You’ve grown so big,” he says fondly. “Somehow the photos just don’t quite capture it all.”

Ushijima feels that he’s made his father proud. That he’s doing what his father wanted.

“I sent in videos of your games to the youth league here. They’ve agreed to let you join for their summer training camp. It doesn’t start till June though.”

Ushijima looks at him questioningly.

“The American system,” he shrugs. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s fine. Remarried.”

“Yeah I heard,” his father says. “And is her husband ok?”

Ushijima thinks about it. “Mizoguchi-san has grandmother’s approval. He owns a large company.”

“Ah,” his father says looking down.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asks after a period of silence.

They’re getting into the car, his father putting the luggage in the trunk.

“What? No of course not Wakatoshi, it’s fine.”

His father doesn’t sound fine though. Ushijima tries not to worry. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong.

“I’m sorry,” he says regardless.

His father looks startled before relaxing. “Let’s get you home, are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

\--

It’s February when he gets the call.

The plan was to go home for a couple weeks in June, but he’s packing his bags early, emailing his coaches, professors and team captain.

The flight seems even longer this time. When his mother hugs him at the airport she’s holding on very tightly, Mizoguchi patting his shoulder.

He goes straight to the Butsudan. His grandmother’s ashes will be joining his grandfather’s after the ceremony tomorrow.

“You should get some sleep,” his mother says softly. Her eyes are red-rimmed and Mizoguchi has his arm on her back as they quietly retreat to their room.

Ushijima stares for a few more minutes before going up to his room. Everything is exactly as he left it, except it doesn’t feel the same at all. But his head hits the pillow and he’s out.

He’s only in Japan for a few days and then he’s back at school, jetlagged and summer trip cancelled.

\--

“Your accent is getting really good,” their team setter says one day after Ushijima yells his triumph.

“Well I speak English all the time,” he answers, slightly puzzled.

“Yeah but some people never lose the accent.”

Ushijima’s been here two years, it seems strange that his teammate is surprised by his abilities.

“Are you coming out tonight?” someone else asks them.

Ushijima learned early on the importance of going out with his teammates and some of them are even his friends now.

“I will have to leave early, my flight is in the morning and I want to be well rested.”

“Always taking care of yourself,” his teammate beams.

This second trip home is markedly different. There are no tears. Only questions.

He has two weeks to see everyone who matters.

“Wakatoshi-kun, we need to discuss the new Morikawa Ayano drama,” Tendou says over the phone on his first day back.

“Who?”

“Where do you want to meet?” Tendou asks, completely ignoring Ushijima’s query.

Ushijima hangs up the phone and goes to find his mother. “Is it all right if Tendou comes over today?”

“Today?” Mizoguchi says.

“We’re going out this evening.”

“I will stay in then.”

Ushijima nods before exiting the room to call Tendou again.

“Could we do tomorrow instead?”

“Oh we can go to the manga store in town. See you then.”

\--

“Wakatoshi-kun!”

Ushijima finds himself smiling at the familiar wave and flame of red hair.

“You’ve gotten bigger? How is your team? What did you think of the last novel I sent you?”

Ushijima tries to marshal his thoughts. “My team is good. And I enjoyed the main character in the book.”

“I thought you might, he’s a bit of a risk taker. Hm but kind of a jerk, although quiet. I’ll send you back with another one,” Tendou promises.

They find themselves in the manga and goods store that Tendou considers his hideout. Considering it’s a weekday it’s fairly empty. They walk past a line of figurines. “She’s cute. What do you think?”

“I suppose.”

“Well what about this one?” Tendou asks.

Ushijima shrugs.

“Ok out of all of the girls on this shelf which do you like the best?”

Ushijima recognizes most of them from a show that he’d watched with Tendou in high school. He’s not entirely sure, but one of them is wearing green and he quite likes green so he decides that she must be the best. When he tells Tendou how he finally decided, Tendou cackles to the point that the man restocking the shelves is staring at them. Ushijima is just about to suggest that they leave when Tendou pulls the figurine down, along with another and heads purposefully to the clerk.

Ushijima puts her on his desk, it’s the only thing other than his high school textbooks and a stack of volleyball magazines.

He’s gotten himself tickets to a game in Tokyo on Friday. He had asked if anyone from Shiratorizawa wanted to come, but they were all still in school or working themselves. The train ride down was quite pleasant and he passed the time by reading up on the statistics of the two teams playing.

After the game he decides that it would be best to just walk as opposed to taking the train back to his hotel. It’s still warm out, even with the sun down. Maybe he’ll grab a book and some dinner. A quiet night with Japanese being spoken in the background sounds like exactly what he needs. He never knew how much he’d miss just knowing what was being said around him. This thought spurs him up to his hotel room, where he grabs his current mystery novel. He’s just heading out when his phone starts ringing.

He doesn't recognize the number and picks up regardless.

“Ushijima speaking.”

“Ushiwaka-chan.” He can hear music in the background, the chatter of voices, strange tinny laughter. “Are you there?”

He hesitates, this is a very strange call because, “Oikawa?”

“Yes yes it’s Oikawa. Where are you?”

“In Tokyo.”

“Yeah but _where_.”

Ushijima looks up at the sign of the crosswalk “Nishikawa and third.”

“What?”

Ushijima is a little confused, “why are you sluring?”

“I’m drunk Ushiwaka-chan,” Oikawa says in a high whine. “Obviously I’m drunk, I’m calling you.”

“Oh.” He finds himself looking around as if perhaps someone is listening in; he wouldn’t want that.

“Come hang out.”

Ushijima finds himself taking the metro into Shinjuku. He walks down brightly lit roads, it’s Friday and it shows. Finally he’s standing in front of the izakaya that Oikawa mentioned, sign fluttering in the wind. Drunk businessmen are flowing between street and shop like little cartoons, their laughter horribly exaggerated in the night air. It’s his first time in a place like this, but the izakaya seems like it’s exactly what it’s expected to be. As he steps through the entryway his eyes begin scanning.

“Can I help you?” the man at the front desk asks.

“Ah I’m looking for a… someone.”

And then he sees it. A halo of brown hair, soft in the light, eyes crinkling in delight, a hand clutching someone’s shoulder as Oikawa pitches forward, wavers slightly and rights himself. Ushijima is there the next second.

“Oikawa.”

Oikawa looks up and his jaw falls open, eyes widening. “Ushi… waka?”

“Yes.”

Oikawa frowns at him, and his companion turns away engaging someone behind him.

“Why’re you here?” Oikawa says pursing his lips as he turns slightly away, folding his arms.

“You called.”

“I…” and he really seems to be thinking, as if maybe he doesn’t remember. “Yes,” he says gesturing wildly. Ushijima grabs his arm before he falls over. It’s as if Oikawa doesn’t notice Ushijima gripping his upper arm tightly, stabilizing him. “But I didn’t think you would _actually come_ ,” he says in exasperation.

“Why wouldn’t I come?” It’s a strange thought. That he would say he would come and then not come.

“Because we’re enemies,” Oikawa says hitting him. And now that Ushijima is looking, Oikawa seems quite drunk, at the very least his drink is spilling onto the floor. Ushijima makes to take it but Oikawa whines and clutches it close so that it spills on himself instead.

“You made me spill my drink!”

“You were already spilling. And what do you mean enemies?”

Does he mean volleyball enemies?

“You’re my ene- nemesis! Yes, my nemesis and I want to crush you.”

Ushijima watches as Oikawa slumps. He’s not sure what to do. He looks around but no one seems to be paying them any mind.

“Iwa-chan’s mad at me.”

“Iwa?”

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa yells, smacking Ushijima again, it feels like a woodland creatures paw lightly tapping his chest. “I just I want Iwa-chan and he’s-.”

“Where is he?” Ushijima asks, feeling as if he’s entered a strange dream, one in which he and Oikawa converse about things other than volleyball.

“He’s- he’s gone.”

“Gone?” Someone Oikawa knew had died? This was, this was very very bad.

“He went to Miyagi for the weekend.”

“Oh, well that’s good,” Ushijima says thinking of this Iwa-chan’s not deadness.

“It’s not good!” Oikawa says poking him this time. “What if he never comes back?”

“Well did he say he would?”

“Yeah but… but… Ushiwak’d comfort me right?”

Ushijima stares at a now crying Oikawa. He pats his shoulder awkwardly as Oikawa stares up at him. And then Oikawa’s lips are on his, drink smashed between them, and Ushijima instinctively grips the back of his shirt, his mouth opening and a hot tongue pressing in. He can taste Oikawa’s tears and he jolts back. Oikawa is staring at him, eyes unfocused.

“I’ll get you a cab,” Ushijima says.

“I don’t want a cab, I want to get laid.”

“Ok,” he says. He isn’t following.

“I want you,” Oikawa says jabbing him in the chest, “to have sex with me.”

Ushijima stares in oblivion.

“Hate sex,” Oikawa clarifies.

Ushijima takes a step back. “But I’m a man?”

Oikawa stares at him. And Ushijima thinks that he might hit him again, but then he’s laughing and it’s loud and Ushijima realizes that no matter the lack of interest of those around them earlier they now have an audience.

“What’s your address? I’ll get you a cab.”

“No,” Oikawa says sniffling.

“Yes, you need to sleep.”

Somehow he manages to push Oikawa onto the curb and hail a cab. “Your address.”

Oikawa rattles it off and Ushijima shoves a wad of bills into the center console, nodding to the driver.

“I hate you,” Oikawa says as Ushijima shuts the door.

He finds himself walking, then he’s on the metro, then back at his hotel, book completely forgotten. Oikawa hates him. But Oikawa was drunk. And yet that doesn’t change the irrevocable fact that Oikawa hates him. He showers in a fog and then gets under the covers. Why does Oikawa hate him? What has he done wrong? And why does his chest hurt? Did he strain himself in practice? Did Oikawa accidently hit him harder than Ushijima had previously thought? He’s never had trouble falling asleep before, but tonight he does, tossing and turning.

He’s on his bike going to a bowling alley but he knows that it’s actually Shiratorizawa. And Oikawa is sitting on the floor calling Iwa-chan over and over again and Ushijima tries to speak but he can’t and he can’t get close and then Tendou is there asking him what happened to miracle boy? But Tendou is his father and-

Ushijima wakes up sweating. He feels very very badly. He chose a hotel with a gym, but two hours later he feels even worse. And a shower doesn’t help either. On the train another thing comes back to him, _hate sex_. What is this ‘hate sex?’ And why would anyone participate? And there it is again: Oikawa hates him. And Oikawa likes men, and he hates Ushijima.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy setters what is even happening


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is altogether too much staring, Iwaizumi talks in barely formed thoughts, and Shirabu thinks in animal-terms for reasons unknown to the author and everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done! lmk what you think (/^▽^)/

It’s been a few months since Ushijima moved back from the States when Shiratorizawa decides to get together again. _Ushijima will be in Miyagi for the weekend_ Tendou said and it had taken .25 seconds for Semi to tell Shirabu to show his face or else. Why Semi thinks he has any say is baffling, and yet here he is.

The first thing that Shirabu notices when he arrives is that something is off. Maybe he’s developed some my-life-is-going-to-take-a-turn-for-the-worse sensor because he’s inhaling like a fucking lion.

“Kenjiiiiii.”

The towering figure of Tendou looming over him is horrifying and he sidesteps just in case Tendou plans on falling over.

“Long time no see,” he says.

“But it hasn’t been,” Tendou says flopping sideways so that his face is front of Shirabu’s face. “Oh,” his feet scoot over, “were you being ironic?”

Shirabu doesn’t even respond, just peers into the kitchen where he can hear raucous laughing. Following the sound he scoots into the packed kitchen. He’s hallucinating. Kaoru must’ve spiked his water with shrooms – fucking bastard brother, because he’s seeing Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime in the middle of the kitchen surrounded by his former team. And, he rubs his eyes, this has to be some sort of strange dream. Tendou is pushing him forward into the room, while people call out their greetings. He eyes the red cups, the red faces, and the general high pitchedness of voices that should never reach such heights.

“Hey,” he says vacantly. Ushijima is standing next to Oikawa and looking comfortable, or at least not tense. Intent on assessing Oikawa’s place in this gathering he turns to investigate. On Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s other side is Soekawa, but he’s talking to Taichi. So who invited the carnivorous plants from hell.

“Shirabu-chan,” Oikawa beams.

“It’s just Shirabu,” he says.

Oikawa ignores this, “Iwa-chan it’s another setter.”

Was his voice always so annoying? Probably. Shirabu is good at pretending trash isn’t there, but he can’t quite do that now.

“You want a drink?” Yamagata asks, and Shirabu is glad for the excuse to do something mindless. He fistbumps Yamagata and the pair hover in front of a row of liquor.

“Oikawa has been helping by making drinks for people,” Ushijima says suddenly. “He’s quite adept at concocting to people’s preferences.”

Oikawa waves him off.

“Oh?” Shirabu asks side eyeing Oikawa.

“Well it comes with being good at reading people,” he says easily. Shirabu hears the implication.

“An interesting use of your various talents,” Shirabu quips calmly and is pleased to see Oikawa’s smile turn steely.

“Well some of us just work harder than others.”

Shirabu bristles, but changes tact.

“What did you make for Ushijima-san then?” Shirabu asks.

Oikawa’s eyes twinkle, “a royal fuck.”

Shirabu doesn’t even react. Oikawa is the most pretentious prick he’s ever met.

“But I’ll make you Liquid Viagra.”

“I’m more of an Adios Motherfucker type of guy,” he answers pulling out the sprite he brought. Oikawa is looking thoroughly amused.

“Make one for Iwa-chan too,” Oikawa says, pinching his friend hard. Iwaizumi tenses and then turns away from Soekawa to glare at Oikawa.

“A what?”

“A drink from Shirabu-chan!”

Maybe Oikawa is trying to lull him into a false sense of security. Joke’s on him, Shirabu’s never felt secure in his whole life.

He makes two drinks and passes one to a bemused Iwaizumi.

“Thanks,” he says eyeing it skeptically.

“I didn’t poison it.”

“No I….” Iwaizumi kind of just turns back to Soekawa. Well he seems normal enough.

Shirabu narrows his eyes at Oikawa who’s just staring at him.

“Yes?”

Oikawa smiles wider. “Ushiwaka-chan says that you’re studying engineering.”

Ushijima is listening, nursing his whatever the fuck that Oikawa made for him. Shirabu is happy to see that the drink is almost full. Or maybe Ushijima just isn’t drinking because of volleyball, or _maybe_ it’s his second one of the night.

“Yeah I am,” he says.

“And you’re still playing volleyball?”

“Yeah.”

“I played all through college too, so did Iwa.” I didn’t ask. “But we were on different teams, it was so sad to have to play against each other.” Shirabu is trying very hard not to yawn ostentatiously. Maybe Oikawa just wants to bore him to death. “It’s too bad that you and Ushiwaka will never get to play together again huh?”

It’s like a bucket of cold water, like maybe Oikawa _knows_. He’s sure that Oikawa can read the shock on his face. Did Oikawa do that on purpose?

“Even if it’s not professionally, I’m sure we’ll still get to play together at some point,” Ushijima says. His brow is just a little furrowed and he looks slightly out of it. Shirabu is positive that Oikawa has never cared about Ushijima enough to pick up on these small cues. But Shirabu can tell that Ushijima’s slightly stressed right now.

“But Ushiwaka-chan, it sounds like Shirabu won’t have time for volleyball soon, being so smart and sciency he’ll have only time for work.”

Ushijima seems to be considering this. At some point the rest of the crowd, Iwaizumi included, had left the kitchen. This is not acceptable. He never asked to be alone in a room with the closest thing to god and satan incarnate.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” he says as he marches out and finds the nearest one. He doesn’t have to pee really but he uses the facilities anyway and then takes a long drink before exiting.

He can’t understand how his teammates don’t seem weirded out by all of this. He takes a moment to glance around the room. Everyone’s by the tv where Mario Kart is in full swing. Even Ushijima and Oikawa have joined now. Goshiki is actively firing up at Oikawa and Iwaizumi, but it’s more of a joking puppylove kind of aggression; Shirabu is beyond disappointed in his kohai.

He spots Kawanishi off to the side, not fully participating.

“Hey,” he says. “How’s work?”

Kawanishi nods for several seconds. “Busy.”

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in…” actually he can’t remember the last time.

“I’ve been kind of out of touch with people from high school.” Kawanishi is looking out at the sea of Mario Karters. He doesn’t look sad. Shirabu was never that close to Kawanishi. He was so fixated on Ushijima for so long. But high school ends. It’s been years, and Shirabu wonders if he’ll ever see Kawanishi again. People’s lives drift, and like rivers sometimes they pull too far away.

It’s some time later in the night, after another drink, and a more purposeful trip to the bathroom, that Shirabu sees Semi pass his controller off. He could probably tell that Shirabu was on edge when he first arrived. “I tried to text you,” Semi says when he finally reaches Shirabu.

“Who invited him?” Shirabu says.

“Ushijima brought him.”

Shirabu shuts down for a minute before restarting. “So they’re what… drinking buddies? They’re not on the same team are they?”

“Oikawa’s version when Soekawa asked, was that they ran into each other in Tokyo.”

“And just decided to be friends,” Shirabu says dispassionately. “Because he’s so mature and Tokyo is small….”

“Yeah it’s bullshit.”

Something’s irking him though. “Doesn’t it seem odd that Oikawa would just stop hating Ushijima?” Ushijima’s standing behind the couch watching as Iwaizumi takes the lead against Goshiki, Tendou, and Reon. Iwaizumi whoops as he wins the round and stands up to let someone else jump in. Oikawa is grabbing his arm and pulling him into the kitchen, his voice is so loud that Shirabu has no trouble hearing him blathering about getting refills.

“Something happened,” Semi says and they lapse into silence. “I really dislike him,” Semi finally grits out.

“There’s something up with those setters,” Oikawa says. Iwaizumi follows his gaze back into the living room to where Semi and Shirabu are talking quietly.

“Well they definitely seem pissed,” Iwaizumi comments, “not like drunk, but pissed off.”

“Hmm.”

“Ushijima’s never had friends,” Shirabu snaps at Semi.

“Look I’m as surprised as you are. I mean, Oikawa. Really?”

They share a dark look before turning to where Oikawa and Iwaizumi are staring at them.

“Tch,” Semi says as he turns back to Shirabu, “you need to keep it together,” he says, face void of expression – probably in case Oikawa’s still watching. “He’s too observant, and you’re not exactly subtle.”

“I am subtle.”

“Not when you’re ready to throw down you aren’t. And don’t take this the wrong way, but you get worked up when it comes to Ushijima.”

Oikawa has made up his mind. “I’m going over there.”

“No, what?” Iwaizumi says as he coughs into his still-full drink. Oikawa slaps him on the back and then stalks over to the setters. He’s like a wolf prowling, prey in sight. And Semi is squaring his shoulders and turning towards Oikawa.

“Yahoo,” Oikawa says flirtatiously.

“Oikawa, how generous of you to grace us with your presence,” Semi says.

Shirabu finds his eyes flicking over to where Ushijima is all too intent on watching Mario Kart. Why did Ushijima bring Oikawa? How do they know each other so well now? Do they hang out? Shirabu knows that jealousy is an ugly thing but he’s prone all the same.

“Well I just thought it would be good to have a chat, setter to setter to setter,” he says. When Shirabu looks back Oikawa is staring at him. Shirabu isn’t an idiot he can tell that that smile holds more malice than genuine kindness.

“What is it?” Shirabu demands.

“Shirabu,” Semi says quietly.

“So feisty, you and Iwa-chan should start a club.”

“Are you actually friends with Ushijima? Because I don’t recall you giving a fuck earlier,” Shirabu says. It’s not a big surprise when Semi shoves his cup at him and tells Shirabu to go get them refills with the ‘cool down’ look. Shirabu kind of hates Semi, but he hates Oikawa more so he’s glad to be shot of him.

Seething internally, he goes into the kitchen and is faced with, shit, Iwaizumi.

“Hey,” says Iwaizumi awkwardly.

“Hi,” Shirabu counters.

“Sorry about…” but Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to know how to finish his thought, and mostly he just looks constipated.

“It’s not your fault,” Shirabu finally says as he grabs the Sprite, he’s not nearly drunk enough but he also doesn't feel like being drunk tonight. He sniffs Semi’s drink and is pretty sure that it was a tequila-something. He starts concocting.

“He really is trying to help,” Iwaizumi adds.

“Who though?” Shirabu grits out. “It’s really cool that he decided Ushijima was finally worthy of his attention,” he says sarcastically. Shit, he hadn’t meant to say all that.

“Uh…”

“Nevermind,” Shirabu says quickly, he cannot finish making this drink fast enough and then he’s making his escape, _again_.

Oikawa is still talking to Semi when he gets to the living room, but he goes over anyway.

“Here, _senpai_ ,” he says passing Semi his drink which will without a doubt taste bad, mostly because he’s not even sure what he put in it. And then he’s gone, Oikawa’s call after him ignored. Ushijima is wandering in the direction of the corner, brow beautifully furrowed, but when he spots Shirabu he stops.

“Shirabu, are you doing well?”

No, I fucking hate your new bff, he wants to say, but keeps it together. “I’m fine.”

Ushijima comes closer peering at him. “You seem upset?”

Shirabu can feel his eyes widening, he’s not used to this new, slightly more perceptive Ushijima.

“No, I’m fine,” he repeats. Ushijima nods once. “How’s the season been?”

They spend a few minutes talking about volleyball and other normal things that Shirabu expects from the universe.

“If you want to come to a match let me know, I can get you tickets,” Ushijima offers.

“Yeah I’d love to see you play.” Ok maybe a little too honest.

“It is nice to have friends watching,” Ushijima says and his eyes seem to bore into Shirabu’s.

It’s subtle, this shift in character, but it seems that Ushijima really has become more open.

“Semi said that you’re moving to Tokyo when you graduate in a few months.”

“Yeah, I got a job doing chemical engineering for A Corp.”

“You are very capable.”

Shirabu is drinking quickly, hoping that the red in his cheeks looks to be from the alcohol and not because he’s just been paid a compliment by the most amazing man he’s ever met. Fuck.

“Thanks Ushijima-san.” And then Ushijima is smiling at him and there is no air in the room.

“Ushiwaka-chan!” whines a very drunk Oikawa. Shirabu clutches his glass while Oikawa pokes Ushijima repeatedly. “Your setters are sneaky and devious.”

Ushijima looks to Shirabu and then to Oikawa. “What?”

“Look look look,” Oikawa puffs out his cheeks and points to the left one. Ushijima leans in to see. “That heathen,” he waves his hand around wildly behind him, “pinched me!”

Shirabu is snorting into his drink. Turning he sees Semi looking thoroughly annoyed. Oikawa whines and Ushijima is trying to placate him but there’s no chill. Shirabu turns helplessly and upon catching Iwaizumi’s eye he tries to silently communicate how very very helpful it would be if Iwaizumi made like a leopard and got his ass over here.

“Oi Shittykawa, here.” Iwaizumi smacks the side of his cold drink to Oikawa’s injured cheek. “Stop being a child.”

“But Iwa-chan.”

“No shut it and come here.”

Oikawa doesn’t seem annoyed at all as Iwaizumi drags him off. And that’s when Shirabu does a double take: _there was someone_ , wait a minute _but they have a boyfriend_ , _here in Japan_. Shirabu can’t believe that it’s taken him so long – months even. He turns to look at Ushijima who’s staring after the pair and still frowning.

“I hope it is ok that I brought Oikawa.” There is nothing to say to that. Literally nothing. “I’m glad that he seems to be getting along well with Shiratorizawa.”

Shirabu should not find it attractive that Ushijima cares about people getting along, especially when people includes Oikawa. His heart is hurting so much at the way Ushijima cares for someone else.

The rest of the night passes in much of the same fashion and although he’s been invited to stay over he insists that he really should be catching the last train, Goshiki and Semi help camouflage his escape with similar proclamations and Tendou is saying that he can just walk home and soon they’re all leaving.

He didn’t think it was possible to feel worse. But if Ushijima does in fact like men, and his type is Oikawa then things are dire. Shirabu sinks into his pillow even harder. Yes Oikawa is pretty, and tall and extremely muscular. Shirabu, hating himself, admits that Oikawa’s the full package. And Shirabu is just, shorter and thinner and his hair is kind of stupid and not fluffy at all. Worse yet is that if they’re talking about skills Oikawa has him beat too.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's just angst. Pure sad angst.

It’s been a week since Ushijima found a crying Oikawa smashed into a dark izakaya and saying things like ‘hate sex,’ when Ushijima gets a text.

 

_Ushijima-san, this is Iwaizumi Hajime. I went to Aoba Johsai._

Ushijima tries to remember. Iwaizumi… Iwai- ah this must be ‘Iwa-chan,’ He feels his stomach tighten, perhaps he ate something funny at lunch.

 

_Oikawa told me what happened. If you could meet us sometime this weekend, Oikawa has something he wants to say to you._

No matter what Iwaizumi texted, Ushijima still gets the impression that Oikawa doesn’t want to say anything at all to Ushijima. They’re at a café that Iwaizumi has picked. Ushijima sits facing them, a black coffee that Iwaizumi (for some reason) paid for in front of him. Oikawa’s looking down and Iwaizumi is nudging him.

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa huffs out. Ushijima sees Iwaizumi elbow him harder and Oikawa squawks. “Iwa-chan why?” he says clutching his ribs and looking close to tears.

“Because trashkawa you need to say it like you mean it.”

“But- but it’s Ushiwaka!”

“Are you shitting me?” Iwaizumi says as he smacks Oikawa’s head.

“Ow! You brute!”

“I’ll show you a brute,” Iwaizumi threatens and paling, Oikawa shrinks back before finally looking up at Ushijima.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“For,” Iwaizumi prompts.

“For being mean,” Oikawa glances at Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi gestures forward. “And,” Oikawa says quickly, “for kissing you.”

Ushijima notices that Iwaizumi is gripping his mug rather forcefully, Iwaizumi looks up staring at Ushijima while carefully taking his hands off his cup and putting them into his lap. It’s silent for a moment and Oikawa quickly finishes.

“I was angry and I took that anger out on you.” Ushijima doesn’t quite remember it like that, but oh well. Oikawa has turned his attention to Iwaizumi, “I shouldn’t have done that,” he says quietly.

Ushijima watches as Iwaizumi looks up at Oikawa and Oikawa’s eyes search Iwaizumi’s. It feels like a long time that he sits there, seeing them just stare at each other, no not just staring, but communicating, and he feels that strange grip in his chest again. As if he has heartburn but also like his chest is turning to ice. He remembers Oikawa’s lips on his, it was just for a second but they had seemed smooth and-

Iwaizumi coughs and turns to face Ushijima, his cheeks pink.

“I’m sorry for all the trouble we’ve caused,” Iwaizumi says.

Ushijima has no idea what that means, but he does realize that they’re both looking at him expectantly.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “it’s all fine.”

Iwaizumi shifts slightly and Oikawa looks down and back up and starts fidgeting. Ushijima just sips his drink.

“Well,” says Oikawa brightly, “we should really be going Iwa-chan and I- ow.” Oikawa breaks off as Iwaizumi elbows him hard in the side. “What was that for?” Oikawa hisses.

“You know damn well-”

“Don’t let me keep you,” Ushijima says. The pair turn to stare at him. If they have to go then they have to go.

“Uh right,” Iwaizumi says, “well it was uh good to see you Ushijima-san.”

“You too,” Ushijima says and then they’re carefully prying themselves out of their seats. Ushijima continues to sip his coffee as they start bickering in hushed tones, he sees as Oikawa steals a glance back at him, as Iwaizumi pulls him forward, and then they’re gone. Ushijima stares at the door for a long time after they leave.

He can’t stop thinking about it. The ease with which Oikawa and Iwaizumi conversed. And it wasn’t just with their words, it was how they touched, how they looked at each other. It’s like a cold rain as he pushes his coffee away. It’s rude not to finish it; Iwaizumi paid for it for him, but he feels ill. He has to go, has to do something, to stop feeling this- this churning.

Ushijima Wakatoshi is running. He’s running from his discomfort. From Oikawa. From the way that Oikawa fell so easily into Iwaizumi, from the strange feeling in his stomach. He keeps running even as it starts raining, even as his mobile rings, even as he hears it stop ringing. Where he is, he doesn’t know. He simply turns around, and he runs it back home.

_When Ushijima turns 7 his parents buy him a new volleyball. Running his left hand over it he feels a sense of accomplishment, he’s going to be the best ace in Japan. Powerful and tall. He tosses it up towards the sky and jumps up to spike it as hard as he can. The ball flies through the air and Ushijima chases after it as it starts to roll down the hill. He sees it bounce off a rock and fly to hit the side of the house before plummeting under some bushes. On his hands and knees he manages to shimmy between two tangled stumps. Just a bit further, he tells himself as his hand reaches forward._

_“What are you saying?”_

_Ushijima stills before looking up. His mother’s voice is coming out of the window above. Maybe he’s outside their room?_

_“I took your name, I live by your families rules, but am I so inferior that I can’t make this one decision?”_

_The sun is still climbing, it’s the west side? No the east side and his parents sleep on the-_

_“It’s what mom wants,” he hears his mother say._

_“I married you, not your mother.”_

_Ushijima wriggles a little farther and carefully reaches for the ball._

_“Taka.”_

_“Maybe it’s better if we stop this.”_

_He freezes, fingertips barely touching the leather._

_“What?”_

_“Do you even love me anymore?”_

_There’s something earnest in his father’s voice and it’s followed by silence._

_Ushijima strains to hear._

_“Of course I love you.”_

_“Then stand up to your mother.”_

_“I can’t do that.”_

_“No. You just won’t.”_

_“What are you saying?”_

_“Unless you decide that I’m as much a part of your family as your parents are this won’t work.”_

_“But you’re my husband.”_

_“It doesn’t feel like it.”_

_Ushijima waits and then hears a door opening and carefully closing. His heart is pounding and he snatches the ball, breath held as he tries to retreat as quickly and quietly as possible, worried about what will happen if he’s found outside the window._ It doesn’t feel like it. Stand up. _He finally makes it out of the bushes when he hears a sob._

_He ducks his head as he hurries into the garden where he usually plays. He didn’t mean to overhear. Once he’s a safe distance away from the house he feels the heat in his eyes, small tears running down his face, unsure what he just heard, unsure why it’s not ok. Is it his fault? Did he do something wrong?_

_He doesn’t remember how long it is between that conversation and when his father actually leaves. In his mind the time is all jumbled, like building blocks crammed into a too-small pale._

_“When will you be back?” Ushijima asks._

_“Wakatoshi I won’t be coming back. But wherever I am you are always welcome.”_

_“I can visit?”_

_His dad looks sad. “Of course you can visit, I’ll fix it with your mom ok?”_

Ushijima hasn’t remembered that in a long time. But now he feels the same sense of guilt as he did back then, the same kind of fear. He liked kissing Oikawa; he _enjoyed_ that Oikawa was not a woman and this is just… unexpected. As he rolls over in bed he sees that he has a missed call. He flicks through, _Shirabu Kenjirou_ , ah he must’ve been the one who called last night. Ushijima tries calling him back, but it goes straight to voicemail.

“This is Ushijima. I am sorry that I missed your call last night. I leave for America this afternoon, but please call before then, or you can always message me.”

Shirabuu does not in fact call back. Ushijima frowns at his phone as he boards the plane; Shirabu hadn’t shown up to the Shiratorizawa get together. In fact they hadn’t been able to see each other during his whole stay. It’s been two years now. But Shirabu would’ve made time for him if he could’ve. Of course he would’ve, Ushijima thinks confidently. And then he’s boarding the plane.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> For those of you following me over from the KuroBasu fandom thank you for your support!  
> Weirdly, this was inspired by all the rad IwaOi stories I read, which made me want to see Ushijima's side of every story. So I decided to write one where he gets the main stage :)
> 
> As always, comments, questions, concerns, edits, suggestions are welcome!  
> Thanks for reading (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑


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